Opiate
by Sabriel41
Summary: At the funeral of a friend, three very different women pay their respects.


**Opiate**

_. o ._

She slipped in after the others had left; hers was the third white flower.

A rose had been the first. Tipped in crimson and stained by tears, the pretty brunette had laid it with a steady hand. Tifa's eyes had been puffy, but she couldn't be faulted for that; there weren't many dry eyes in that small circle.

Her own weren't, although she stood apart, waiting for his friends to pay their respects.

Really, Elena mused, it was fitting. Tifa had known him first, and remembered him best as a child. Their real legacy was little more than awkward adolescence and promises that were too large for either of them to bear.

She knew this; he'd told her, fellow shock of blond hair under a guard's helmet. They'd been so young then; sixteen and the smallest in the patrol, both away from home for the first time and determined to succeed. It was only a matter of time before they fell together. Alliances were inevitable in the Shinra ranks, and the others learned quickly not to mess with the two blonds – they were small, but he was frighteningly strong and she had a knack for anything technological or explosive. They both had short tempers.

Pity that for all his strength, the thought of Tifa was enough to either bring him to his knees or take risks that he could ill afford.

Elena never was jealous, despite how close she got to him. They grew together somewhere along the way, becoming each other's fledgling sweetheart and fellow prankster. What they had was laughter and light love; smiling blue and hazel eyes, fierce sparring matches, and black coffee and donuts filched from the Executives' Suite. His love for Tifa was idolatry; she seemed little more than a very strong memory; a girl who time and distance had turned into a goddess.

Even now, and even despite that, the memory of his departure remained painfully clear. After being selected for the Nibelheim mission, Cloud _glowed _for the week preceding. He also trained the hardest he ever had… and he was in good spirits until the morning they were to leave.

She'd been sparring with him in one of the smaller weapons rooms, and he'd almost pinned her to the wall with his broadsword when Zax, a SOLDIER who had taken Cloud under his wing and was a supervising officer on the mission, stopped in to say it was time to go. At Cloud's assertion that Tifa was going to be super-impressed, the SOLDIER chuckled.

"Who cares, man? She's not going to see you under that helmet of yours, y'know." He tapped the edge of his sword; a prototype, the "Buster," on Cloud's helmet as the blond paused, frozen.

Elena couldn't see her friend's expression – the visor covered most of his face – but from the way his jaw was set and the manner by which his sword trembled and dropped about half an inch, it was clear that he had never considered this.

She remembered then that he was supposed to go back home as a SOLDIER and a hero, and winced as Cloud grimaced and turned to follow Zax. Before he could, she dropped her sword, and grabbed his wrist. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "If Tifa's half the girl you say she is, it _won't._"

Despite himself, his lips curved into a tentative smile. "Thanks, Laney." Scuffing a toe, and running a hand through his unruly hair, he continued. "I… you and I…I mean…"

With strength she didn't know she had, Elena smiled. Using one hand to slip her helmet off of her head, and the other to quiet his fumbled apology, she replied. "I know, Cloud. I'll… I'll be here when you get back." She kissed him once, lifting his visor as she bent forward. Their free hands intertwined, and he held her tightly.

"Thanks," he murmured afterwards, their lips a breath apart.

"Any time." Hazel eyes sparkling, she pulled his hand. "Now let's get you out of here…"

"So eager to be rid of me…" he griped playfully.

"You know it," she teased, pausing when he unstrung the chain from around his neck, removing his ID tag and placing it in her hand. "What's this for?"

"Hold on to it for me, will you, Laney?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you _serious_? C'mon. I'll be seeing you soon enough."

Cloud didn't reply. He grinned bashfully, closing her hand around the tag and taking the other in his own as they walked out to the helicopter pad.

She did not see him for five years after that day.

Rumours of what he had done, however, and what had been done to him still reached her ears. Her hacking into the main Shinra databases helped her learn a little more about his fate… and word of her work guaranteed her the next spot on the exclusive team of fighters known as Turks.

It was one of her first missions when she saw him again, as she took Reno's usual position. Dashing into the caves, she caught sight of him and froze. She'd heard it before – heard his name, seen pictures, and never really believed it. Now, she had no choice. Clad in a SOLDIER's uniform and hair in a style she'd seen last on someone else, he had become a hero. _She_ was his enemy now, poured into a sleek navy suit, explosives in her hands and trim handbag, stumbling over her words in the Junon caves.

The worst, she thought, was that he didn't remember her, looking at her as she scrambled in with a flat hatred. His eyes froze her to the spot, Mako-laced and brilliantly blue, and her hand fumbled on the key of her explosive. It was true, then… the treatments, the 'adaptations'… but she, too, had a role to play, and the speculation in Tseng's eyes could not be encouraged.

Biting her lip, Elena steadied her hand and hurled the sphere.

As luck would have it, it never reached Cloud. Instead, it was intercepted in mid-air by the oversized ninja star hurled by the girl at his side. The princess Yuffie Kisaragi was wispy as anything, but like most of her companions, her appearance was deceiving.

Elena traced a scar on her left bicep as she recalled that meeting; she knew first-hand that Yuffie could use her exotic weapons to devastating effect.

Yuffie's was the second flower.

It was easily the largest white chrysanthemum that Elena had ever seen. Yuffie cradled it in both hands solemnly, until reaching the coffin itself. She paused, and then launched into a variation of a victory spin, laying the chrysanthemum with a careful flourish onto the lid.

From where she stood, Elena could lip-read most of Yuffie's last message, and smiled softly as the teenaged girl referred to Cloud as 'Chocobo-Head.' Really, it _was_ fitting.

As was the flower – she remembered from what little she knew of Yuffie's heritage that white flowers signified mourning – and Yuffie and company had certainly given Cloud a hero's due. Ironic that barely a year after the Meteor Crisis had passed, its hero succumbed to severe Mako poisoning. It had been a quiet service, engineered by the turncoat Reeve Vanh and patrolled by the troops he had inherited unwittingly. She, of course, had found the top-secret location and snuck past the guards – such obstacles hadn't stopped her since her early teens.

She had done as much as she could to try to save him, once he was diagnosed – spending weeks researching archaic cures, goading more money for investigation out of Reeve, and quietly, deliberately remaining behind the scenes.

Reno figured out before long what she was doing, and teased her mercilessly for it. She tolerated it – much to her chagrin, the abrasive redhead had grown on her – but when he asked why she wouldn't let something so far in the past go, Elena could only reply that Cloud was a hard person to forget.

Which was why, as the small group of mourners slipped away, she descended from where she had hidden to place her flower, a rare white poppy.

A poppy was a soldier's flower, with its dual burden. Remembrance – its bright petals assured that – and the oblivion its seeds could render. It was not nearly as flashy or exotic as the other blooms, yet she smiled once more as she gazed at the flowers. For them, it fit; fellow soldiers as they were. "Remember me," she whispered, removing his tag from the chain where it clinked next to her own, "_now_, Cloud, and forgive me a little… I have to forget you." Biting her lip, she slipped the poppy stem through the hole in the tag, and placed the poppy between the other two flowers. Expression meticulously neutral, she turned, and did not look back as she walked away.

Reaching the sleek black coupe in the parking lot, Elena slid into the passenger seat. At Rude's silent query, his eyebrows arched inquisitively, she let out a half-chuckle, half-sob.

Shaking her head, Elena replied. "No, I'm not all right." Setting her eyes out the window, she steadied her voice, her fingers brushing a newly solitary identification tag. "But… I think I will be."

_. o ._

…_finis…_

_. o ._

**Disclaimer: **Elena, Cloud, Rude, and Reno are still property of Square (soft/enix) and all other appropriate affiliations.

**Sabe's Scribbles:** For one – happy belated birthday, Drakonlily! I get the distinct impression this was supposed to be fluffier than it was, but I already owe you huge (thus, a little longer to make up for the drabble collection AND for the Christmas giftfic that was very overdue).

For two – Cheers to you, the unknown reader! I hope you enjoyed what you read, and I'd love to hear from you. Feedback is always wonderful to receive.


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